Lyrics
And the only thing in decent shape is buried beneath the ground, where are your sacks of barley
Cry a million shaking men, cry a million shaking men
Cry a million shaking men, there s a wisp of smoke to the south of the glen and the poit n is on the air
he has a million gallons of wash and the peelers are on the glen
Will your likes be seen again, will your likes be seen again Moore, but they ll never catch that hackler cos he s not comin home again
The birds in the burrows and the rabbits in the sky and there s drunkards, may your fiddle play and poit n cure your company up above
Mcilhatton you blurt we need you, may your fiddle play and poit n cure your company up above Mcilhatton, will your likes be seen again
but they ll never catch that hackler cos he s not comin home again
But they ll never catch that hackler cos he s not comin home again, will your likes be seen again, cry a million shaking men
May your fiddle play and poit n cure your company up above, if you please
the goat s collapsed and the dog has run away and there s salmon down the bogs
And the only thing in decent shape is buried beneath the ground, may your fiddle play and poit n cure your company up above
May your fiddle play and poit n cure your company up above, and the only thing in decent shape is buried beneath the ground
where are your sacks of barley
may your fiddle play and poit n cure your company up above
For he could cure your shakes with a bottle of his stuff would cost you thirty, will your likes be seen again
The goat s collapsed and the dog has run away and there s salmon down the bogs, mcilhatton you blurt we need you, cry a million shaking men
Here s a jig to the man and a reel to the drop and a swing to the girl he loves, may your fiddle play and poit n cure your company up above, if you please
Where are your sacks of barley, mcilhatton you blurt we need you
cry a million shaking men
Will your likes be seen again, mcilhatton you blurt we need you
for he could cure your shakes with a bottle of his stuff would cost you thirty
mcilhatton you blurt we need you
May your fiddle play and poit n cure your company up above, cry a million shaking men
cry a million shaking men
Mcilhatton you blurt we need you, there s a wisp of smoke to the south of the glen and the poit n is on the air
A jiggin spring on the breeze, may your fiddle play and poit n cure your company up above, cry a million shaking men
In the dead of night a man steps by, may your fiddle play and poit n cure your company up above, where are your sacks of barley
May your fiddle play and poit n cure your company up above, where are your sacks of barley
the goat s collapsed and the dog has run away and there s salmon down the bogs
Mcilhatton you blurt we need you, will your likes be seen again, if you please
where are your sacks of barley
in the dead of night a man steps by
Will your likes be seen again, the birds in the burrows and the rabbits in the sky and there s drunkards
There s a wisp of smoke to the south of the glen and the poit n is on the air, in glenravel s glen there lives a man whom some would call a god
May your fiddle play and poit n cure your company up above, for he could cure your shakes with a bottle of his stuff would cost you thirty, the birds in the burrows and the rabbits in the sky and there s drunkards
at skerries rock the fox is out and begod he s chasing the hounds
The birds in the burrows and the rabbits in the sky and there s drunkards, in the dead of night a man steps by Christy, where are your sacks of barley
But they ll never catch that hackler cos he s not comin home again, here s a jig to the man and a reel to the drop and a swing to the girl he loves
May your fiddle play and poit n cure your company up above, here s a jig to the man and a reel to the drop and a swing to the girl he loves
may your fiddle play and poit n cure your company up above
there s a wisp of smoke to the south of the glen and the poit n is on the air
May your fiddle play and poit n cure your company up above, if you please
Where are your sacks of barley, will your likes be seen again Christy, in glenravel s glen there lives a man whom some would call a god
the birds in the burrows and the rabbits in the sky and there s drunkards
In glenravel s glen there lives a man whom some would call a god, at mcilhatton s house the fairies are out and dancing on the hobs
For he could cure your shakes with a bottle of his stuff would cost you thirty, mcilhatton you blurt we need you
May your fiddle play and poit n cure your company up above, will your likes be seen again
here s a jig to the man and a reel to the drop and a swing to the girl he loves
May your fiddle play and poit n cure your company up above, may your fiddle play and poit n cure your company up above
Where are your sacks of barley, here s a jig to the man and a reel to the drop and a swing to the girl he loves
